


Pouring Like an Avalanche Coming Down the Mountain

by Critter_Cantrip



Series: Dancing with Fire [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Mild Cursing, Rating: PG13, single scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 04:01:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14011728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Critter_Cantrip/pseuds/Critter_Cantrip
Summary: Post battle nerves get the best of Molly and his anxiety leaks out. Jester makes quite the impact.





	Pouring Like an Avalanche Coming Down the Mountain

Mollymauk tilted his head to the sky and let the rain fall. The others struggled in the downpour to stretch a waxed cloth over the exposed wagon frame to offer the injured some shelter. The third time he’d snarled in Infernal at Jester he’d been sent out into the wet to ‘gather wood’.

He glanced at the desolate fields lit by little more than greyness and trodden into mud. The only source of fuel tonight would have been dung, If it hadn’t rained.

The squelch of boots in the mire warned him to look behind. Fjord approached, hood tossed back. He, too, was already soaked to the core.

"That’s a shiner,” Molly said in a pale echo of his usual wit.

Fjord gave a small smile that halted once he tried to move the muscles around his swollen eye. “Well, we gave better than we got.”

A huff escaped Molly. “Better? In that all of us aren’t dead?”

“He’ll recover,” Fjord said.

“We’re terrible heroes,” Molly replied. He untied his coat, slashed into ribbons, and let it drop into the muck. “Heroes don’t need a troupe of healers to follow them into battle and stitch half their innards back together.” The last bit he snarled out as he ripped at shreds of his shirt.

“He’ll wake up.” Fjord said again. “It’s just a matter of time.”

“He shouldn’t have to!” Molly screamed. “You shouldn’t have saved me!” The words twisted as they left him, sprung out of him in a violent leap that assaulted Fjord.

Fjord dropped to a knee and clutched at his head.

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit. Molly took a step towards Fjord, a hand out reached. He paused.

He couldn’t help him. His fault. Too many faults for one man to lay claim to all at once. Molly watched as Fjord fell to his side in the mud. He needed to get help. He needed to –

He felt a freezing shiver go from his head down to his toes as something impacted with the base of his skull. The world spun in a drunken whirl before he hit the ground and retched.

He tried to turn over, tried to crawl towards Fjord. The half orc was defenseless. He managed to roll over enough to see his attacker through swimming eyes.

Two Jesters held a damned cast iron cooking pan in one hand like a club and glared down at him. “You hurt Fjord. I Just. Healed. Fjord.”

Molly explained it was an accident. That he was terrified of losing Caleb. That the wizard was just too damn _squishy_. And that he was confused if she was using her double or if he was just that wrong in the head.

What Molly actually did was cough up a little more bile while shielding his head.

“Arrrggh!” Jester said. She grumbled to herself about idiotic men as she started dragging Molly towards wagon. Molly couldn’t understand all her words but there was something about ‘why did I agree to be the damn cleric’ that made it through before he passed out.


End file.
